


Weekend Drabbles (AKA I Will Write My Way Through This Writer's Block Even If It KILLS Me)

by DontOffendTheBees



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Multi, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 12:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11290578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontOffendTheBees/pseuds/DontOffendTheBees
Summary: A collection of as many Brotzly/Kurlish/Faranda prompt fills I can do because I have lots of writers block to work through and short stories are a yes. Gonna be a mix of fluff, angst, humour, and probably more heavily weighted towards Brotzly because that's mah jam <3





	1. “Your eyes are red… were you crying?” - Brotzly

“Todd?”

Todd cursed under his breath, wiping his eyes roughly with his hands. “In here,” he called, wishing he could do something about the tremble in his voice.

Dirk rounded the corner into the kitchen, face brightening the second he saw him. “Todd! You will not _believe_ what Farah and I just- wait, what’s-” he frowned, cocking his head. “Something’s… are you-?”

“I’m fine,” said Todd hurriedly, turning away under the pretence of filling the kettle.

“Your eyes are red, what…” Dirk’s eyes widened in realisation. “Were you _crying?”_

“No, I…” He trailed off. It was a half-hearted protest and they both knew it.

“What happened?”

“Nothing _happened_ , I just…” He couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t put his finger on it. Sure, there was stuff bothering him, like there always was. He hated not knowing where Amanda was, or if she was okay, and knowing that she wouldn’t even tell him if she could because she didn’t trust him anymore. He hated treading on eggshells around all the things he used to take for granted because now the threat of a pararibulitis attack was always there, lurking just on the periphery. But that was shit he was used to by now, shit he’d had time to get used to, but today… today just felt _wrong_. Like it was doomed from the start and it’d stay doomed until he went to sleep and he was just so goddamn fucking _tired_ he couldn’t-

“Todd!” Dirk squeaked, patting ineffectively at his shoulders. “Todd, you’re doing it again!”

“Sorry, I’m…” Todd’s voice broke around a sob and he couldn’t talk about this shit anymore, he just…

“What do I- what can I do?”

 _Hell if I know._ Todd shrugged helplessly, rubbing his face again and knowing he was only making it redder.

“Right… okay… well, I suppose…?”

And then Dirk stopped talking altogether in favour of lurching awkwardly into Todd’s space and enveloping him in a clumsy but well-meaning hug.

It was so stupid and weird and unexpected. Todd felt a laugh bubbling up out of him before he could do anything about it.

“Is this- sorry, am I doing this right?” Dirk asked meekly, face uncomfortably smushed into the side of Todd’s head.

Not even slightly. His arms were all stiff and wrong-angled and he was craning his back and neck in a needlessly weird way. It was a total fucking mess, in all honesty.

“Yeah,” Todd murmured, wrapping his arms around Dirk’s waist and pulling him closer. “Yeah. You’re doing great.”


	2. “Don’t move, it’ll be okay.” - Brotzly

“Dirk!” Todd breathed, and Dirk could feel his hands on his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his hair- all sorts of disjointed places he shouldn’t be able to reach all at once. He must be moving _really_ quickly, Or he’d grown extra hands. “Don’t move, it’s- it’ll be okay.”

“Todd…” Dirk mumbled, forehead wrinkling. “Can you… those hands are very… distracting, can you just… two at a time…”

“I’ve only _got_ two, Dirk,” said Todd, sounding even more worried than before. “Jesus, can you- Dirk, can you open your eyes?”

“Nghhh…”

“Look at me. Dirk, look at me a second, okay?”

He managed to crack his eyes open all of a millimetre before snapping them shut again. “Urgh. Bright. No.”

“Dirk, _look at me.”_

Oh, bloody hell. He couldn’t argue with that tone. That was the ‘Dirk Gently You Tell Me What’s Happening Right Now Or I’ll Put Every One Of Your Jackets Through The Paper Shredder’ tone. He forced his eyes open and hissed as the blinding light hit his retinas. God, why was it so _bright?_ Were they on the bloody _sun?_

“No, Dirk, we’re in a warehouse, remember?” said Todd, and Dirk hadn't been aware of asking that out loud but he was grateful for the clarification nonetheless. "We were chasing that guy but then he pulled a- a knife and, _fuck_ -" his hands on Dirk's chest slipped. Come to think of it, his chest felt very slippy indeed. What was all that about? "It's okay, it's- it's gonna be okay, the ambulance is on its way just don't. Move. Okay? Just, just breathe. But not too fast. And not too slow, just-! Argh, just breathe normal, okay? Can you do that?"

He wasn’t so sure he knew what normal breathing _was._ Honestly, who could ‘breathe normal’ when they were _trying_ to breathe normal?! That was absurd! Also he appeared to have multiple stab wounds. That was even _more_ absurd. Still, he managed a few minutes of something approaching ‘normal’ breathing before he heard the distant sound of wailing sirens.

Todd breathed a ragged sigh of relief, slippery hands clenching in Dirk’s ruined shirt. Or, no, wait, not Dirk’s shirt. Something else. “Oh, thank _God._ Dirk, it’s okay- it’s gonna be okay.”

Dirk was finding it difficult to focus on anything. Difficult to _connect_ things. He wondered where Todd’s hoodie had gone for an embarrassingly long time before realising _that_ was the thing he was scrunching over his stab wounds. That was shame. He liked that hoodie on Todd. The colour matched his eyes. Come to think of it, so did the blue flashing light beginning to play off the walls. Bloody hell, those sirens were _loud._ Very disorientating. He decided to focus on Todd’s eyes instead. He knew those, he could ground himself in those. But bloody hell they were _blue._ Those were some of the bluest bloody things he’d seen in his _life._ And some of the prettiest. God, he loved those eyes. Even when they were glaring at him. Beautiful, beautiful Todd with his beautiful, _beautiful_ eyes.

“Uh…” Todd appeared to be blushing. “Thanks. But I, uh, don’t think this is the time, okay?”

Ah. Said that out loud, too.


	3. “When you’re happy, I’m happy.” - Kurlish

Thing is, Ken had been travelling with Bart for a while. He figured he knew her pretty well by now, and he’d known from the day he met her (or, y’know, the day she chased him with a machete and kidnapped him) that she was a bit… well, _weird._

It wasn’t a bad thing! Well, not all the time. It was cool, some people were just weird and Bart was one of them. She moved weird, she talked weird, and she had a weird way of looking at the world. Or at first glance she did. But he was starting to think her straightforward (and violent) approach to life and her place in it actually made more sense than most people’s.

But she had a lot of weird habits, and one of those habits was staring at things. And people, people and things, she stared at all of them. He guessed the thing about being absolutely assured of your place in the world was it made you a lot less embarrassed about stuff like that.

So he was kinda used to her staring at him by now. She did it a lot. She was the kind of person who would stare at something until she figured it out, and since human interaction wasn’t her strong suit she had a _lot_ of figuring out to do.

But there was something a little _different_ about her staring today. She didn’t look mad, or sceptical or even that confused. She just looked kinda thoughtful. Like something new had occurred to her and she didn’t understand it but she didn’t mind it.

“Bart?” Ken asked when he’d caught his breath from laughing- the corgi in the backseat was chasing her stubby tail again. “You okay?”

She was watching him a little too closely considering she was behind the wheel. But he guessed they’d crash if they were supposed to crash anyway. “You’re happy.”

“Uh… yes?” He didn’t really have to think about it. He’d… well, he’d been the happiest he’d ever been these past few months. Just him and Bart and Chainsaw (Bart’s choice- they had no idea what the corgi’s real name was but she seemed to like Chainsaw just fine). He never would have expected it, but he wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t sure where Bart was going with this. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” she grunted, eyes back on the road.

“…O-kay.”

Silence fell for a little while. Until Ken started giggling at Chainsaw’s attempts to climb into his duffel bag. Then Bart was giving him that look again, and a quiet: “Huh.”

“What?”

“It’s…” she lifted one hand from the wheel to gesticulate in that broad, kinda drunkenly confident way she did. “It’s like- I’m happy anyway, y’know? But right now I’m _more_ happy. It’s like… when _you’re_ happy, _I’m_ happy. Y’know?”

Another weird thing about Bart; she was the both the scariest and cutest person he’d ever met.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling now for a whole other reason. “Yeah, me too.”

“Well, yeah, of _course_ you’re happy when you’re happy- that’s, like, what it is.”

“No, I mean- I’m happy when _you’re_ happy. Like, reversed.”

“…Oh.” She kept her eyes on the road, but he could see her smile a mile off. “That’s nice.”


	4. “There’s a leaf in your hair.” - Faranda

“Farah,” Amanda said mischievously, rocking on her heels. “Were you hiding in the bushes?”

“What? _No,_ no, I just- I just drove here. Came right up to the door, just now.”

“ _Right._ So you only just got here?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh. There’s a leaf in your hair.”

“What?”

Amanda smirked and leaned forward, reaching out and plucking something from Farah’s head. She twirled the leaf between her fingers with a knowing smile. “You know, you should _really_ clean your car more.”

Farah blushed furiously, rubbing the back of her neck. Okay, truth be told she maybe didn’t _just_ get here. That was the _plan_ , originally. Just get here, go to the door, knock on it and ask Amanda… what she wanted to ask her. But then she’d just, just _freaked_ out and turned round and… hidden in the bushes.

So much for playing it cool.

“I, uh…” Farah cleared her throat. “I just came round to ask… do you… uh… like… food?”

Amanda blinked. “Uh. Well, I kinda need it to live. But yeah, yeah, food’s pretty cool I guess.”

“Good. Good.” God, she wanted to punch herself in the _face._ “I just thought, y’know, since we both like… food. Er, we could, we could go have food. Together. Sometime.”

“You and me?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean,” Amanda said slowly, tilting her head. “Like a… date?”

 _Oh, God, she isn’t into it, ABORT, ABORT-_ “Y-es?”

“Okay.”

Farah blinked. “…Really?”

“Yeah, man, sounds cool.”

“Good! Good, that’s- good!”

“…Hey, Farah?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve, uh… you’ve got another leaf in your hair.”

Farah’s breath caught as Amanda leaned into her space again, reaching behind her head to grab the leaf with a sly smile.

And when Amanda stretched the rest of the way to steal a quick, playful kiss, she pretty much lost the capacity to breathe altogether.


	5. “I’m sorry I yelled at you…” - Brotzly

Todd never thought he’d actually start to _miss_ the sound of Dirk’s voice. Usually the guy would just let his never-ending stream of consciousness spill out of his mouth in real-time, so keeping up was a daily Olympic-level endurance event.

But it had been half an hour since Dirk had so much as mumbled to himself. He wasn’t even singing along to the radio- and Todd had switched it over to his favourite crappy pop station, so something was _definitely_ up.

Problem was he knew exactly _what_ was up. But since it was mostly _his_ fault, he wasn’t super anxious to bring it up.

But Dirk had gone from just staring out the rain-specked side window to angrily flicking it, so…

“Look,” said Todd, shoulders hunching in discomfort. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, okay?”

Dirk made a non-committal sound of acknowledgement. Shit, he was _really_ mad. He flicked the window again, watching a raindrop on the other side of the glass jiggle and roll down rather than looking at Todd’s face.

Todd sighed, clenching the wheel a little tighter. “I know you’re pissed at me and, yeah, okay, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, but…” he shrugged irritably. “Look, it’s been a long day, we’re both tired, let’s just call it and start over in the morning, okay?”

The car fell into tense silence again, and Todd kind figured that would be the end of that until Dirk shook his head and straightened up from his moody slouch.

“No,” he said, with a slight shake of his head. “No, we should sort this out now. I read in a magazine that you should _never_ go to bed angry.” It would have sounded a lot wiser if Todd wasn’t 90% sure the magazine in question was _Cosmo._ “So we need to… de-escalate the situation. And quickly- I don’t know about you, but I am _exhausted,_ I’ll conk out in _minutes_ when we get home.”

“Okay, so… how do we do that?”

“We could…” Dirk frowned, stumped. “…Tell jokes?”

“You should be a marriage counsellor.”

“Excellent energy, Todd, but I think jokes at each other’s expense might be counterproductive.”

“Damn. There goes most of my material.”

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Really, Todd? Two in a row?”

“Come on, you walked right into it.”

“Oh, you mean like _you_ walked right into that glass door last week?”

“…Dirk, that was you.”

“Damn. Hoped you wouldn’t remember.”

Todd snorted. And then he giggled. And then he gave in and full-on laughed, shoulders shaking.

And a few seconds later, so did Dirk.

Okay. Maybe _Cosmo_ knew its shit sometimes.


	6. "That stuff can't be good for you!" - Brotzly

“Dirk, how many of those have you had today? That stuff can’t be good for you.”

Dirk shrugged, slurping his slushie loudly. When he opened his mouth to reply it was pretty much entirely blue. “What do you expect me to do, Todd? The ice cream van’s parked _right outside_ our bloody building! That’s a sign from the universe if ever there was one. I got you one, too! Well… I got myself a spare one. But you can have it! I’ll just go and get more.”

“That’s real big of you, Dirk,” said Todd dryly, but he accepted the offer. It was like a hundred degrees out today, so ‘work’ had ground to halt. Farah was taking a nap on the couch in the breakroom since it was the only place the AC worked right. Dirk had even loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

The sight wasn’t exactly helping Todd cool down. Neither was the smug smirk as Todd took a sip.

“Don’t get cocky,” Todd grumbled, leaning against the desk. “You’re still gonna make all your teeth fall out.”

“Oh, well. They’ll grow back.”

“…No, Dirk, only kids’ teeth do that.”

“Pfft. _Of course,_ Todd,” said Dirk, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure bones are _incredibly_ picky about age brackets. Got a lot of secret dental knowledge, do you? Science, dentistry- how _do_ you remember it all?”

“At least slow down- you’re gonna give yourself brain freeze.”

“I’ve never had that, actually- I think I might be immune!” said Dirk chirpily. “Or it’s a myth, like limited teeth.”

“It’s really no-“

 _“Ahh!”_ Dirk shrieked, cutting Todd off mid-argument and slapping himself in the forehead, entire face scrunching up in pain.

“Aaaaaaand there it is,” Todd smirked, taking a self-satisfied slug of his own slushie. Sure, he could be sympathetic. But Dirk was getting all high-and-mighty and sometimes you had to learn this stuff the hard way- oh, _fuck,_ shitshitSHIT, fucking _ow- “Shit!”_

“What is this?!” Dirk wailed, clutching his head in both hands. “Oh, God, _why?!”_

“I- _hnngh_ -told you,” Todd gritted out through the fucking ice in his brain.

“Betrayal!” Dirk declared, pointing an accusing finger at his cup. “Villainy!”

“Dirk-ugh, relax, it’s just-“

The door slammed open, rebounding off the wall from the force, and they both spun their stinging heads to find Farah standing in the doorway, gun drawn and battle-ready. “Where are they?” she snapped, eyes darting furtively to every corner. “I heard screaming.”

“No, Farah, it’s- it’s okay,” Todd groaned, waving his hand. “We just… we just got brain freeze.”

“…Oh.” She holstered her gun, embarrassed. “R-right. Yeah, just- just checking. You, uh… never, never really know. Round here.”


	7. "This will only take a second..." - Brotzly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little shot of angst, but with a happy-ish ending- just procrastinating from my bigger fics don't mind me!
> 
> Warnings for references to needles/Blackwing shit, trauma.

_“This will only take a second…”_

That’s what they always said. The doctors, the nurses, the scientists. Every time they came, with their machines and their needles. And they were right. Whatever they were doing, it _did_ only take a second. But a second was a long time. Longer than you’d ever think.

Then again, maybe that was just the pain talking. It had a way of warping one’s reality.

Nothing good could ever come of hearing that phrase. No one who was doing something _nice_ for you would tell you it would only take a second- why should they? Why put a time limit on something you had no desire to see the end of? If someone was reassuring you that they’d be done quickly, it was because they were doing something you probably wouldn’t want done in the first place.

Usually, something you had absolutely no choice in.

Dirk squirmed, eyes screwed shut, sweat breaking out on his forehead as the words echoed around the hollow chasm of his head- typically a hive of near-incoherent activity, now rendered dead silent as panic seized him.

He’d learned better than to kick and scream. Learned better than to struggle.

Struggling would only make the second longer.

Whimpering, however, was both permitted and impossible to avoid.

“Dirk?”

… _That_ wasn’t the name they normally used.

He opened his eyes, and found Todd’s staring right back.

“Dirk,” he said again, softer this time. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes, I’m,” he glanced between Todd and the scientist- no, not the scientist. The doctor. That’s right, this was… yes. “Yes. Sorry. I’m fine, of course, I’m- I’m okay.”

Todd frowned. He leaned forward and set a hand carefully on Dirk’s arm, teasing the hem of his rolled-up sleeve. “You sure? I mean, this is just a check-up, maybe they could skip the-“

Dirk was already shaking his head. “Nonsense. I’m a grown man, Todd- I think I can handle a little blood test!”

He probably wasn’t all that convincing- and Todd could almost _certainly_ feel him shaking.

“Okay,” Todd murmured, stepping back to give the doctor some space. Dirk missed his hand as soon as it had left his skin.

But it was back a second later to hold his other hand, so he really couldn’t complain.

He smiled gratefully, squeezing Todd’s hand and feeling him squeeze back.

It was nice to have something to hang on to this time.

He breathed in deeply, closed his eyes, and counted slowly down to the end of the second.

There were many, many _far_ more pleasant seconds waiting on the other side of it.


	8. "Damn auto-correct..." - Brotzly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Procrastinating from writing with different less interesting writing woops <3

So we’re all in agreement! Meet at the skate park at 1!!!

_Dirk, 17:46_

 

Yeah sure but Dirk, seriously- don’t bring your rollerskates.

_Farah, 17:47_

No promises. Todd, remember the camera!

_Dirk, 17:48_

Sure, babe.

_Todd, 17:48_

…

_Farah, 17:48_

BUD

I MEANT BUD

DAMN AUTOCORRECT

_Todd, 17:49_

Riiiiiiiiiight.

_Farah, 17:49_

Oh.

Fair enough.

Well, see you tomorrow, dear!

*dude, even.

Autocorrect.

_Dirk, 17:51_

Since when do you call anyone ‘dude’?

_Todd, 17:52_

Just trying something, beloved.

_Dirk, 17:52_

???????

_Todd, 17:52_

*Buddy.

_Dirk, 17:53_

 

Guys. I don’t wanna have to block you both from the work chat again.

_Farah, 17:53_

 

Until tomorrow, honey.

*Homie.

_Dirk, 17:53_

Uh-huh. Sure, dick.

*Dirk.

_Todd, 17:54_

Hm. Wonder why THAT word’s in your suggestions…

_Dirk, 17:55_

Okay muting you both.

_Farah, 17:55_

Yeah, that’s a good call.

_Todd, 17:55_


	9. "Don't look down." - Farina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farinaaaaaaaaaaaa <33333

“Tina…”

“I’m fine!” Tina yelped, nodding vigorously. “I’m- I’m  _fiiiine._ It’s all  _good,_ man, just- just chillin’, y’know.”

“Tina… it’s okay, you’re gonna be o-okay, just… just hang on, we’re gonna get you out of this.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Okay, I need- I need you to climb up to me, okay?”

“Hnnnggg, okay…”

“O- _oh_ kay, Tina, you, y-you need to  _open your eyes,_ first.  _Don’t_ try and climb up with your eyes closed!”

Tina whimpered.

“It’s okay! It’s gonna be okay, just, just climb up part way, okay?”

Tina tentatively moved her foot, and screeched as a cluster of loose stones collapsed beneath it. “I can’t!” she wailed, eyes shut so tight she was seeing those weird colour splash things inside the lids. “I can’t do it, man!”

“Tina! You’ll be okay, I  _promise!_ Just follow my voice!”

“Yeah… yeah, follow your voice, okay, I can… I can do that.”

“Open your eyes.”

“Opening my eyes.”

“And  _don’t. Look. Down.”_

She looked down. “I looked down!”

_“Tina!”_

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Tina, it’s okay, it’s really not that-“

“That’s ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh long way up, Farah.”

“Tina…”

“Think I’m uhhhhhhhhhhhh freaking out, kinda, like, I’m  _really_ losing my shit right now.”

“Just- just climb to me, okay, you can do it. C’mon, I’m right here, it’s okay…”

Tina looked up. Farah, dirt-smeared and worried and more fucking gorgeous than any dirt-smeared worried person had any right to be, looked back down.

“Tina,” she said, brows drawn, extending her hand. “ _Trust me.”_

…Fuck. Couldn’t argue with that.

“Oh, man,” she breathed, reaching cautiously for a handhold. “I am so  _screwed…”_


	10. "You call that music?" - Brotzly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quick daft Brotzly ayyyyye

_Ugh. He calls_ that  _music?_

Todd glowered at Dirk’s laptop where it sat on the breakfast bar, obnoxiously spewing some generic k-pop that sounded like it’d been chewed up and spat out by a Hello Kitty autotune app. He had half a mind to get up and slam it shut, make the crime against his ears just fucking  _stop._

He was about halfway out of his chair when he looked over to the kitchen.

Dirk was standing at the counter, bare feet shuffling out a clumsy box step on the floor as he inexpertly beat a bowl of pancake batter, hips knocking cutlery and empty egg boxes to the floor as he hummed along tunelessly. A wet  _splat_ joined the fray as a particularly vigorous stir sent half the batter flying up and out of the bowl, splattering across the counter and cupboards. He barely paused in his jaunty mumbling to curse at it. Wasn’t enough of a mood-dampener to stop him, apparently. He was adding to the horrific cacophony in all the worst possible ways.

He also had the biggest, goofiest smile on his face.

Todd hesitated.

He sank back into his seat.

Maybe… he could put up with it. Just a bit longer.

Ugh. This stuff really  _did_ kill your brain cells.

* * *

 _They’re forming in straight line_  
They’re going through a tight wind  
The kids are losing their minds  
The Blitzkrieg-

Click _._

Todd spun round, confused. He knew that old Ramones CD was getting a little worn these days, but it had never just  _stopped_ like that, before.

Dirk frowned at him, hand hovering over the  _off_ button, and a look of bewildered disapproval plastered across his face.

“Honestly, Todd,” he said, shoving the CD player aside to make room for what looked like an armful of assorted ceramic cats. “You call  _that_ music?”

…Well. Looked like the next murder Dirk investigated was gonna be his own.


	11. "Shh, they'll hear us." - Pantlas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Panto/Silas installment yaaaay! Hopefully there'll be more in the future! ^_^
> 
> (also this is very suggestive and sort of pre-smut, I didn't think enough to jack up the rating of this collection but if you disagree lmk!)

 “Shh,” Panto murmured, glancing up through his eyelashes, pressing another smiling kiss to Silas’ hipbone. “They’ll hear us.”

Silas tried to keep his lips clamped shut, but it was impossible to contain the gasps and squeaks when every brush of Panto’s lips awakened butterflies in his blood.

A particularly loud yelp had Panto recoiling with laughter, allowing Silas’ tunic to fall swiftly back into place as if it still retained some notions of protecting his modesty. “Silas,” he chuckled, smoothing out the fabric. “Perhaps this is not the best time-“

“I’ll be quiet!” Silas whined, tangling his hands deeper into Panto’s soft hair.

Panto rose to his full height, bracketing Silas’ body with his arms on the wall and his leg pushed gently but insistently between his thighs. “That,” he breathed, nuzzling tenderly into Silas’ cheek. “Would be a _humongous_ pity…”

Silas’ heart skipped, his breath caught. “Panto…”

“Would you rather not wait, sweetheart?” Panto said, kissing and nipping lightly at Silas’ earlobe as he spoke softly into it. “Until we have time, and space and…” he pulled back, his eyes flicking briefly towards the flimsy wooden door to his left. “Perhaps a touch more privacy?”

He had a point, and Silas knew it. In retrospect, slipping out of the land negotiations to haul his lover into a rarely-used pantry for some kissing and heavy petting wasn’t, well, _smart_. Or even decent. He was hardly setting a good example.

But all morning he’d had Panto’s leg pressed up against his under the table. His hand- ungloved, his green-tipped ring finger on display for the world to see along with the silver band wrapped around it- finding Silas’ knee under the table, squeezing, stroking, tracing circles up his thigh, inside it, driving him to distraction with the most innocent of smiles upon his face…

Silas may be a prince, but _heck,_ he was only human!

“Panto,” he said, punctuating the beautiful word with a gentle yet heated kiss on his love’s sweet, supple lips. “I think if I wait any longer, I shall _expire.”_

Panto laughed quietly, catching Silas’ hands in his own. “Then best be quiet, my love- I think we shall _both_ expire if your mother finds us canoodling in her kitchens. She’ll have _my_ head for sure.”

Silas felt the heat rushing to his face as a perfectly wicked play on words occurred to him. He debated letting it slip away unspoken, but if there was one thing that never failed to bring Panto to his knees (literally), it was Silas allowing himself the moments of wickedness. He caught Panto by the hair, meeting his eyes with a low heat simmering in his belly. “Not before I do, my love.”

It certainly had the desired effect. Even as his mouth turned up in a sly, amused smirk at the crude double entendre, his crystalline eyes darkened in lust and he sank down, hands trailing hot and worshipful down Silas’ body as he went willingly to his knees, eyes hungry and aglow with pleasure at the prospect of finishing what he’d started.

Silas clamped his hands over his mouth as Panto’s clever fingers did away with his belt, and wondered how long he could possibly keep them there with Panto’s silky hair so tantalisingly close, just waiting to be grabbed, held, stroked, pulled, caressed as his perfect mouth went to work.

Well. He never _promised_ he would be quiet…


	12. Kiss on a scar - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting to veer into other prompt lists don't mind me. This chapter is a Trans!Todd headcanon chapter, not NSFW but it's definitely leading there, it's mostly feels tbh.
> 
> Also [go read my Big Bang](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15539295)!! It's Panto/Silas centric and hella fantastical.

“Todd? Are you- is this alright?”  
  
“Yeah, sure.” Shit. Todd could  _really_ do with sounding less shaky right now.  
  
Dirk sits back on his heels, eyeing Todd curiously as his thumbs trace the corners of the scars. “ _Is_ it? Because you don’t sound particularly keen.”  
  
“I’m not- I mean, I  _am_ \- ugh, it’s… it’s complicated.”  
  
Dirk smiles encouragingly. “Oh, that’s alright- I’m used to complicated!” He lifts one hand away from its exploration, cupping it round the back of Todd’s neck to pull him close, pressing them lightly forehead to forehead. “Penny for your thoughts?”  
  
He laughs, dry as a bone, shakes his head against Dirk’s. “I just… They never really healed right. I didn’t take care of them, I guess, and I dunno, sometimes when people see them they get… weird.”  
  
“Well, I’m already  _very_  weird, as you so like to point out,” Dirk says, chipper as ever. “And I’ve got a few scars of my own, so. Hardly one to judge.”  
  
“I know.” Shit, that’s the thing, he  _knows_  Dirk would never judge him, especially not for this but… well. Old habits. “I know, Dirk, it’s just gonna take some getting used to.”  
  
Dirk’s hand squeezes his neck, tugging lightly at stray hairs. “If it’s too much- if  _anything_  is too much, you tell me. Alright?”  
  
Todd breathes out, closes his eyes, and nods. “Yeah. Yeah.”  
  
“Promise?”  
  
“Promise.”  
  
Dirk seals the deal with a chaste kiss, lips warm and comforting against Todd’s. But only for a moment- soon they’re moving, pecking a path down Todd’s chin, his neck. Soft, insistent on his throat, collarbone, chest. Todd’s breath catches as they graze his nipple, but even teasing at such a sensitive spot doesn’t prepare him for where they alight next.   
  
“Still okay?” Dirk whispers, breath tickling across the scar tissue.  
  
“Yeah,” Todd rasps, eyes fluttering shut with the first kiss. " _Y_ _eah,_  fuck…”  
  
He knows it shouldn’t carve down to his core the way it does, knows most of the sensation atop the deadened nerve-endings must be his imagination. But there’s something about the gesture, the intimacy, the trust it takes just to sit still and let Dirk explore all he wants. It’s electrifying, it’s… God help him, it’s  _hot_. The fuck?  
  
When Dirk looks up he’s a sight to behold. Eyes bright, glittering with just a trace of moisture, hair mussed and cheeks flushed as he looks up to Todd with undisguised awe, thumbs tracing the curve of his scars reverently. Suddenly all Todd wants to do is sink his fingers into that hair, hold on for dear life because Dirk has that look on his face- that dazed, happy,  _hungry_  look- that means he’s moments away from doing something that makes him forget which way is up.  
  
“ _J_ _esus_ ,” breathes Dirk, so soft and sincere it’s as if he’s actually praying- which makes Todd feel weirdly jealous for some batshit crazy reason he doesn’t wanna inspect too closely because it’s not like some fucking hippy dude is gonna descend from the sky and steal his man. He’s in a pretty vulnerable place right now, okay? At least Dirk never shuts his mouth for long, rambling on before Todd has a chance to make an ass of himself somehow. “Todd, you… oh, Todd, if you could see…”  
  
He sighs, and for a moment the air stills, the charge of sexual tension dimming to a low background thrum as Dirk closes his eyes, tilts his head, and lays his cheek on Todd’s abdomen like a pillow, feather-soft hair teasing his scars as he nuzzles in.  
  
“Perfect,” he says, voice and head heavy with thick, slumberous calm. “My Todd…”  
  
And despite the weight on his chest, Todd can only feel ten pounds lighter.  
  
“Yeah,” he rasps, hugging Dirk’s slender neck, fingers sliding into his hair where they belong as his eyes prickle with budding tears. “All yours…”


	13. Roller Derby is WLW Culture - Farina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this one aaageees ago and posted it to tumblr as a little get well soon gift for Lavellington, but I thought I'd add it to this collection- it'd be nice to have all my drabbles on my Ao3!

“Faraaaaaaaah!” Tina grinned, stretching both arms over her head. “Heeeey, girl!” **  
**

Farah smirked. Broken bones weren’t gonna get in the way of Tina Tevetino’s good mood. Then again, the painkillers were probably helping. “How’re you feeling?”

“ _D_ _ude_ ,” Tina whispered, beckoning her closer with an intense expression. “I have  _metal_ in my  _leg_ , now. How bananas is  _that_ _?_ ”

“It’s pretty standard procedure for breaks of that severity, actually-”

“I’m like- I’m like the  _Terminator_. Like, a  _sexy_ Terminator.”

Farah rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Sure you are.”

Tina rolled her head to the side, regarding Farah with a knowing smile. “So.  _You_ think I’m sexy?”

“I mean…” Farah blushed, glancing across at the very occupied next bed. But the person in that was either sleeping or pretending to, and almost entirely buried beneath an avalanche of blankets. “You  _are_ my girlfriend.”

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhhh, I am!” Tina crowed, face crumpling up with the force of her grin. “ _Man_. That’s, like…. Freakin’  _sweet!_  How’d that even  _happen?_  I wore you down, huh?”

Farah chuckled, ducking her head. “Well… you, uh, didn’t have to do a lot of wearing.”

Tina beamed, reaching out and taking Farah’s hand. “You’re just, like… the  _coolest_ ever, y’know? Like, I wake up and look over at you and it’s like  _wooooaaaah!_  Y’know?!”

Her face was so bright, so open, her eyes all scrunched up and happy, exuding warmth and love from every pore. “Yeah,” Farah said softly, squeezing her hand. “I know.”

“Hey, did you see that move I did?” Tina asked, bouncing a little. “You know, the one, the one right before I-”

“Threw yourself into a wall?”

“Yeah!”

“Yes, it was… v-very impressive.”

“Didja swoon?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“Knew it,” Tina said, grinning smugly. “Chicks dig roller derby.  _And_ scars. Man, this worked out  _great!_ ”

Farah opened her mouth to say that chicks also dig not having to visit their girlfriends in hospital, but was interrupted by a polite, embarrassed cough. She turned round, and blinked. “Todd?”

“Hey, Farah,” said Todd, glancing between them in confusion. His arms were full of assorted candy bars. “Uh, hi, Tina.”

“Todd!” Tina grinned, waving enthusiastically. “Hey, man! How’d you know I was here!”

“I, uh… didn’t? Sorry- what  _happened_ to you?”

“Wait,” said Farah, brows furrowing. “If you didn’t know Tina was here, why are you-”

“Todd?”

They all started, and turned to the next bed where the blanket pile was shifting.

Dirk blinked owlishly at them from his nest, hair a mess and eyes bleary. “Todd, did you- oh! Hi, Farah! Tina! What brings you here?”

Farah turned to Todd in confusion. He shrugged.

“There was… a thing with a skateboard.”


	14. Raindrops on eyelashes - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a sensory prompts list <3

"Isn't it  _ beautiful _ _?" _   
  
Todd looks at him askance from his grouchy little huddle, shoulders miserably hunched. "That's... not exactly how I'd put it. "   
  
Dirk rolls his eyes and turns his attention back where it's best utilised, on the street, nestling into the familiarity like an old blanket. He loves London, loves her from corner to convoluted corner. London in the rain is even better, a mystery waiting to unfold, a hub of effervescent life shrouded in misty anonymity. Beyond the tiny veranda under which they sought shelter, the heavens have opened, apparently determined to turn good old London into Atlantis this side of Christmas- and there's  _ not _  a lot of that side left. And yet every which way he looks, he sees life- from the ill-equipped tourists scurrying back and forth in search of refuge, to the seasoned veterans forging doggedly on with sturdy umbrellas and sturdier resolves in the face of a minor monsoon.    
  
It was already nice to be back, but... now it  _ really _  feels like home. "Good old English rain..."   
  
Todd remains unimpressed, scoffing quietly. That doesn't bother Dirk much; he does that sort of thing all the time. What  _ does  _ catch his attention is the shudder that follows.    
  
He frowns down at Todd's stooped little form, frowning. "Are you cold?   
  
The answering head shake is immediately undermined by another shiver, somewhat more aggressive than the first. Dirk  _ tsks  _ softly, levelling Todd with his best disapproving look (it's not as good as Todd's by a long shot, but he's been practising). Serves the man right for not dressing appropriately- and after Dirk so thoughtfully pointed out that big heavy grey cloud that looked like a kangaroo! Evidently, Todd was a glutton for punishment.    
  
Still, he hates to see him so glum.    
  
Dirk sidles in closer, testing the waters with a hand on Todd's shoulder. When he receives no angry shrug he mirrors it with his other hand, turning Todd so they stand face to rain-soaked face, rubbing his hands vigorously up and down his arms to try and coax some heat into them. The sodden fabric of Todd’s flimsy hoodie rucks up unpleasantly beneath his palms. "Perhaps if you'd heeded my warning about the kangaroo cloud, you would have dressed more appropriately," he says sternly, not enjoying running his hands across the soggy thing any more than Todd must enjoy wearing it.   
  
Though Todd's dismissive snort was carried away on a gust of wind, his withering look remains entirely weatherproof. But he makes no attempt to put space between them, standing docile as Dirk rubs warmth through the layers of waterlogged fabric. In fact, he leans in a bit; just a tad across the already minimal stretch of space between their chests. Close enough that if he so chose, Dirk could pop a kiss to his damp, curly hair with a bob of his head. Close enough that he can track the deepening pink of his wind-chafed cheeks. Close enough that he can see the raindrops on his eyelashes, tiny beads of moisture clinging like dew to grass, shimmering in the midday sun with every blink of his big blue eyes.    
  
_ See? _  he muses smugly, leaning down to kiss the scowl on those cold, winter-chapped lips.  _ Beautiful. _


	15. Kiss on a place of insecurity - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I need to work on IoBI but I needed some silly fluff tonight <3

It's not that Todd's self-conscious about his height. He isn't. And fuck you for thinking he is because he's a perfectly good height and he can still kick your ass with it. Whatever, point is, he's not self-conscious about it. Anymore.    
  
But it would be nice- in a totally objective, non self-conscious way- if people would quit pointing it out. He gets it, okay? He doesn't need constant reminders from assholes on the street that he's below the national average. Cute little nicknames like 'short stack' and 'bite size' and 'small fry' can fuck right off and die in a corner. Helpful observations about it- as if he somehow managed to forget about his tragic shortness that morning and needs a reality check- can go screw themselves. And not that it's not nice to feel wanted, but he'd ditch bars and any amount of self-grooming in an instant if it means never having to deal with some six-something asshole looming up in his space and enjoying the fucking ego boost. It's either a joke or a fetish or a fucking power trip for people and he's fucking sick of it. But he's not self-conscious about it.    
  
So if his face looks red right now, it is  _ not _ stupid vapid embarrassment. He's not some high school wallflower with a bad haircut. It's anger. Righteous anger out of  _ principle _ . Anger he's perfectly entitled to because- "No! Fuck- fuck off, it's  _ not _ a fucking invitation for- just, no. No."   
  
Dirk gapes at him, eyes wide as saucers. "Um- beg pardon?"   
  
"You know, you fucking  _ know _ what you did," Todd seethes, crossing his arms protectively. "And you know what? You're not such a tall guy yourself, so you can take that condescending b.s. and stick it up your a-hole. You can't just do shit like that- and in the middle of the goddamn office, I have... rights!"   
  
Dirk's starting to look at him like he's grown an extra head. "I... All I did was kiss your forehead."

To use a Dirk turn of phrase, he was  _ wildly  _ aware. “Well,  _ don’t.” _

Dirk looks a little hurt, and Todd would’ve felt pretty bad about it if he didn’t also look bewildered as if Todd’s being the unreasonable one. “But… you’re my boyfriend.”

“Well, that’s not blanket permission.”

“Yes, granted, but… I’ve certainly kissed you in more  _ compromising  _ places, wouldn’t you say?”   
  
Todd averts his eyes, face hot. He can’t even explain it- it was a pretty sweet gesture, for all intents and purposes. He likes that they don’t have to second-guess themselves anymore, but… “You didn’t even have to angle your head,” he grumbles, picking at his sleeve self-consciously as he ducks his chin.

He can’t read Dirk’s expression from his viewpoint, but he can hear the cogs clicking in his head in the silence. “Ah.”

Cheeks burning, Todd mumbles something vaguely dismissive and turns to go hide his face in some paperwork- god knows that’s the only way shit gets done around here. But Dirk’s hand catches his sleeve, smoothing down the rumples of his own nervous fiddling as he tugs him back around to face him, tilting his chin back up with his other hand.

Dirk cocks his head, eyes flickering in that curious way of his across Todd’s face. 

And then, before Todd can make any sort of retreat he bobs forward to plant another kiss on his forehead.

Todd rears back, spluttering.  _ “Hey-!” _

Dirk beams, utterly unapologetic. “Couldn’t resist. Never can.”

He catches Todd’s hands, twining their fingers loosely by his hips. “I’ll stop if you really want me to. But I wasn’t trying to be condescending, promise. I just like that I can just-” he rocks forward again, bestowing another playful kiss without so much as a stoop or stretch of his neck- “and kiss you. I don’t even have to think about it.” He does bend his neck then, just to bring them forehead to forehead, eyes fluttering closed with a little sigh of contentment. “It’s like you were made for me.”

And even with indignant rage and deep-seated insecurity still coiling in Todd’s gut, even with his skin still tingling with the impressions of surprise kisses, when Dirk meets his eyes with warm, shining honesty it knocks the wind right out of his sails.

Mother _ fucker. _


End file.
